


All I Want For Christmas (Is Some Fucking Peace And Quiet)

by mee4ever



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday Presents, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, I'm like a month too late, It just got cute, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, do i care?, no, this was supposed to be smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 02:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13331781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: Derek had said he didn’t want anyone to buy him presents for Christmas/his birthday, so Stiles makes sure no one does.Or the one where Derek gets a bunch of nice stuff.





	All I Want For Christmas (Is Some Fucking Peace And Quiet)

**Author's Note:**

> Who wants to read Christmas fluff in JANUARY? Answer: No one! But idgaf, you know? Imma just upload this shit cause I feel like I haven't written jack in forever and I just want something done. Hope you enjoy it, or if you're tired of this shit, you can just save it for eleven months and come back later. Peace. 
> 
> (No beta, so don't flame tha storyyy)

Stiles has learned how to: get out of bed, pad through the apartment and open the loft door without Derek waking up. Even with his super hearing, Stiles has managed to become a ninja and it comes well in handy when on Christmas morning, Derek’s birthday, when Derek has only asked for “some fucking peace and quiet” and doesn’t want to make it a big deal. Stiles said “okay” to that. That might’ve been a slight lie, because when the door now slides carefully open, the whole pack is lounging outside, ugly Christmas sweaters, morning stones in the corner of their eyes and calm smiles on their lips. No one speaks, just shuffles in, tinfoiled dishes and presents and a fucking dressed Christmas tree in hand. Stiles waves, smiles brightly at them and indicates where he wants everything to be. He keeps an eye on Scott who shrugs and nods every once in awhile. It means that Derek’s still asleep.

Had their scents and their heartbeats not been so familiar, Stiles is sure Derek would have woken up long before Stiles headed out of bed, but now when they’re not, when they mean safe and love and pack and home, there’s no need for Derek’s wolf to grow uneasy. So she doesn’t. And Stiles makes sure everyone has a comfortable seat and that the presents for Derek are in a pile in front of the middle seat in the sofa between Isaac and Lydia, which he’ll take once he wakes up.

Derek has also specifically said that no one can buy him a gift. With emphasis on _buy_. Or at least, that’s where Stiles put the emphasis and so he made sure no one has _bought_ him a gift. Since the rest of them did Secret Santa, though, and bought each other gifts for twenty bucks, that means that when all is said and done, everyone except Derek has one gift each, and Derek has eight. Nine, if Stiles’s second present counts.

Stiles makes hot chocolate. Two liters of it. He stirs it as quiet as possible and everyone else just sits around, messing with their phones or petting (no dog jokes intended) a significant other. It’s calm and quiet, and it’s only when Stiles has poured the cups and is about to bring one into Derek that Scott hits his foot on the table and curses under his breath.

Derek’s in the room before anyone has a chance to do anything. “What the-”

“Merry Christmas!” Scott says cheerily with a goofy grin, his stubbed toe forgotten. The rest echoes the same.

“Happy birthday,” Stiles says and holds out his mug towards him. Derek stares at him, then at the others, then at the mug, then up at Stiles again.

“What is this?” he asks.

“Hot chocolate.”

Derek groans, waving a hand at the pack. “What is _this_?”

“Your pack.”

Derek groans again. “What are they doing here?” he hisses, like he doesn’t want them there. Stiles falters a little but straightens his back.

“They’re here to quietly and peacefully celebrate the birth of the world’s lord and saviour Jesus Christ, though I am technically jewish so I’m not so sure about all that, and to celebrate _our_ lord and saviour, Derek Hale, who I’m dating and therefore am much more sure about. Now, take your chocolate and sit down, we want to open presents.”

Everyone keeps their calm, they’re awfully quiet but no one actually seems to mind. Now, when Derek’s awake, through, a quiet murmur of conversations starts up, and Derek looks around at them again before Stiles promptly puts the mug in his hand and goes to sit down next to Erica on the armchair she’s splayed in. He waves a hand at Derek to join, to sit down on the couch where they’ve made space for him, in the middle of them all.

“There are presents.” He sits down and eyes the pile.

“Yes!” Stiles says. “We did Secret Santa.” Derek seems to breathe out a little.

“But since we bought those, you weren’t in it,” Isaac says beside him. Derek relaxes even further.

“So, we had to get you presents in other ways. Turns out, you get a lot more presents then the rest of us.” When Derek looks up at Erica, she waves her gift around and when he looks around, everyone else holds up their wrapped things. He stares at the pile in front of him.

“I told you I didn’t want-”

“-anyone to buy you anything. And we haven’t. It’s all Stiles’ fault,” Jackson says. “Open mine first so you can’t get disappointed with it because everyone else gives you better ones.” Jackson looks casual when he says it, but Scott gives Stiles a look, and Stiles just knows that means Jackson’s heart is _fluttering_ or some shit, because he actually wants to give his alpha a good present.

Derek grumbles, his shoulders up by his ears. But he reaches out, Jackson leaning forward and points at his present in the front, and brings it into his lap. Derek refuses to look up, just extends a claw and masterfully rips the paper and ribbon open. It’s a book, obvious from the beginning, but when it’s out in the open, Stiles actually recognizes it because… it’s Derek’s book?

“I made notes.”

“You wrote in my book?”

“Yes. And I left my number at the back, in case… I don’t know, if you wanna discuss it.”

How he has gotten this far through the pack without letting anyone but Lydia know his number, Stiles will never know but now Derek also has it. Which is a huge fucking deal because it means Jackson trusts Derek with it, that he’s opening up further about this idea of pack, of Derek’s pack. Stiles feels almost proud of the shitbag. Derek glances at him.

Gruffly, he says, “So the presents can only get better from here?” and smiles a shitty little smile that Jackson rolls his eyes at and then flips him off for. He doesn’t look at Derek when Derek says that he’ll text Jackson later, but Scott looks at Stiles again and they snicker. Jackson snaps his gaze towards them like he’ll murder them, but Lydia abscently puts her hand on his knee and he sits back down.

Derek carefully chooses another package and unwraps it. It’s a kitchen knife Allison stole from him, now with a rune that Stiles vaguely recognizes as a protection rune. She jumps up and enthusiastically says that it’s so that living things cannot be hurt with it.

She snaps it from Derek’s hand. “It really works, look!” she says before slicing down, straight across the top of her hand. There’s a collective gasp and everyone leans in towards her, but her skin looks untouched and she grins all around. “Thought it’d bring you ease to know Stiles won’t accidentally kill himself when making you dinner.”

Under his eyebrows, Derek looks up quickly at Stiles and gives him one of his private smiles. Of course, everyone else sees it too, and they croon and whistle and “awww”s at them. Derek flushes, but Stiles only grins, all teeth on display. With a shake of his shoulders, Derek sobers up and thanks Allison for the gift.

Isaac nudges his knee and preens at him to open his present next. Derek indulges him, and it’s a soft package when Derek grips it. Isaac only has the time to shout “No claws!” before Derek rips it open, with his fingers this time. Out of the paper slides fabric down on the floor and Derek reaches down to pick it up again. His eyes blows out when he catches it and–Stiles presumes–its scent. Isaac gives him one of his hoodies. It has the word “PACK” scrawled in thick lettering on the front in water resistant paint, Isaacs handwriting.

“I made everyone wear it for a while.”

Jackson had insisted he’d wear it first because he didn’t want to wear it if anyone else had, and Lydia had called second. Stiles had had to fight to even be allowed to wear it since he was around Derek all the time anyway, but Isaac had eventually caved when Stiles had persisted that he was pack after all.

Derek looks at it like he wants to bury his nose deep inside it, but he only grips it tightly and gives Isaac a well-deserved hug. Stiles is sure Derek's going to live in that one when he can’t see, or haven’t seen, them for a few days.

Scott gives him a heartfelt note. Derek reads it in front of everyone, but doesn’t let anyone else see it. Stiles knows it's a confession/apology/declaration/promise-letter, and he knows what’s in it even if he hasn’t read it. Like Jackson’s number, this is also an extension; it’s Scott’s way of saying that they’re in this together.

“Thank you,” Derek says, his face stoic but Stiles knows his insides are a mess of emotions. Scott just nods, a tiny smile on his lips.

Lydia gives him his enrollment letter for the spring semester at NYU. He stares at her and she dares him not to go back. He doesn’t thank her like the others, but Stiles can see the wheels spinning and the idea of going back to school eases in and settles in his mind. There’s no doubt in Stiles’ mind that once the thought has taken root and bloomed, Derek will go back to get his degree.

He looks rather overwhelmed. And there are still four boxes left. Stiles purposely placed his packages furthest away, at the bottom, just so Derek would take the others’ first. He sits on his heels and feels almost giddy when Derek picks up Boyd’s present and starts unwrapping it. The gift is a handmade box that contains a key. It seems no one but Erica actually knows where it goes because she sits there smirking as everyone else just looks confused. Boyd pulls Derek away from the rest, stands off to the side by the kitchen door, gives him a hug, and whispers something not even the wolves can hear. Derek looks at him, slightly surprised, but with a warm smile. Boyd nods. Before they can head back, Erica points out that they’re standing under the mistletoe. The two of them looks up. Then down at each other. Boyd chuckles and leans in to kiss him softly on the lips. Derek looks even further surprised when Boyd then shuffles back to sit next to his girlfriend again, who just grins.

Erica takes her gift, stands up, and gives it to Derek when he comes back to the table, too impatient now. “C’mon,” she says and shakes it so that he takes it from her. He sits down again while pulling at the ribbon and ripping the paper. If he’s getting excited about them, or if he’s anxious for it to be over with, Stiles’ not sure, but he crack a genuine smile when he opens her box.

“It was my gramp’s,” she says. Derek puts the box down and picks up the contents. Stiles does a slight double-take when he sees Derek holding a five-laced, braided gold _ring._ If Erica wasn’t so vocally waiting for Boyd to put a ring on her, it might've been a different situation, but now, this means Erica definitely doesn't intend that ring for Derek _at all_. Stiles blushes and tries to disappear. They've not talked about marriage. They’ve barely mentioned the future; they’re not even technically living together. But then Derek looks up at him, soft and excited and childlike, and Stiles knows with all his heart that when the time is right, he will accept that ring and wear it until he dies.

Then there’s only two presents left.

“That one first,” Stiles says pointing and Derek complies. Stiles can feel a neverending spasm with the anticipation, and he stares at Derek’s face to see what reaction this will bring out. He might’ve bet a couple bucks, or twenty, with Scott that Derek might even cry. Not that he hopes that he does, just, wouldn’t _hurt_.

Stiles hasn’t bought the album, his dad had found it in the closet, a left over from when Stiles was little, so the gift fits right into Derek’s requirement. It is brown leather, a celtic knot on the front and Derek drags his fingertips over it before turning to the first page. His breath catches and Stiles can see the exact moment Defek realises what he’s been given.

“Stiles…” he says, not even looking up, just turning page after page after page.

It’s a scrapbook of his family. Stiles has gone around town and the library for months gathering all pictures of the Hale family he could find–even those that were bad–and put them all together. Stiles hadn’t known all of their names, not even know how many family members there had been, but now he’s fairly certain he’s gotten at least one decent picture of all of them. He’s left room for Derek to add captions if he likes, and Derek seems to drag his finger over his family’s faces just as much as he does over the places where an eventual story or name will be placed. Stiles is proud; Derek likes it.

He seems to practically forget everyone else as he flips through it, three times, before he suddenly shakes himself and looks up. Stiles smiles at him. Derek sort of preens at him before getting up and stomping over, placing himself in Stiles’ lap and proceeds to kiss the living shit out of him. Enough so that the pack starts to get uncomfortable after hollering, and he doesn’t stop when they start coughing and clearing their throats. Stiles doesn’t care. Derek’s his and he likes it when he gets all up in his face around the others.

Jackson is the one to fold first, together with a close second Boyd, and they decide it’s better to go and leave the love birds alone. Scott’s the last to catch on, but Isaac pulls him away by the hand and they all leave with forced out goodbye’s and Christmas wishes. The door slams shut and Derek and Stiles are alone. Stiles fully approves.

Derek pulls back. “I didn’t mean for them to leave.”

Stiles nods his head back and forth, circling his arms around Derek’s waist. “But you kind of wanted them to.” Derek rolls his eyes at him and shrugs a little before kissing him again.

“I love the gift.” He looks around to the table. “All of them, actually.”

“Good.”

“You must’ve worked your ass off.”

“I did.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles eyes the package still left on the table. “It’s a good thing everyone left, at least for you, because I’m not so sure you would’ve wanted all of them to see you open that.”

Derek leans back and fishes the present off the table and comes to sit next to Stiles, in the armchair instead of on top of the armrest, and he begins to open it. Stiles tries his best to keep a straight face as Derek reveals the box.

Unimpressed, Derek asks, “You bought me a gag for Christmas?”

Shaking his head, grinning like a son of a bitch, Stiles answers, “Oh, no, Der. I couldn’t buy you anything, so I bought _me_ a gag for Christmas. All you wanted was some fucking, some peace, and some quiet. Now you can sexily shut me up _whenever you want.”_

Derek makes sure to use it within the next couple of minutes.


End file.
